Learning to Run
by YupThatsMySock
Summary: Kakashi, a man who runs his life like clockwork, finds his world thrown into disarray upon rescuing a mute woman with a peculiar secret. You can teach someone to walk but you can't teach them to run. AU, Hans Christian Anderson's Little Mermaid w/a twist.
1. The Librarian and the Sea Maiden

Currently being published on TONFA (The Original Naruto Fanfic Archive) if you want to read ahead. As mentioned on my profile, this fic is a friendly challenge against ontuva to test our skills at writing. The challenge was Hans Christian Anderson's Little Mermaid and Hatake Kakashi. If you enjoy this, please check out her story, titled "The Leaf and the Moon." Full summary of my story here:

_Hatake Kakashi was a man of routine._

_Past tense. Was._

_Ever since he helped a young, mute woman he found unconscious on the beach, it seems the structured dollhouse world he'd constructed has been thrown into utter disarray._

_As he cares for the young woman he discovers her secret: she has to find someone, and if that someone is not found within the next six months, she'll turn into the water from which she came._

_It sounds like fantastical nonsense to him, but to her, it's life and death, and part of her survival depends on Kakashi himself._

_Kakashi soon learns it's not wise to stop a mermaid with an ultimatum. All you can do is teach her how to walk._

_But teaching someone to walk is easy. It's teaching someone to run that's impossible- they have to understand it on their own._

To my joy and surprise, this fic has gained a loyal following and some popularity on TONFA. Reviews are love. Thank you for reading.

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><p>Hatake Kakashi liked routines. He wasn't too fond of change, though he accepted that it was a natural part of life and no matter how much he wanted things to stay the same, they most likely would not.<p>

However, he managed to maintain a rather structured, routine-led life, to his satisfaction. He wasn't too strict in how things occurred—again, he realized he couldn't help it sometimes—but he did follow a certain schedule that he would not allow to vary: every morning at four sharp, he got out of bed, helped himself to bread and tea, and was out the door by four-thirty to go fishing. If he was lucky and caught something, he would be back by six or so to prepare for the day. He would attempt to wake the raven-haired teenager who slept in the room across the small hallway from his, get a little more food, attempt to wake the boy again, get dressed and ready to go, then force the young man out of bed with threats of kicking him out, though he was too kind-hearted to anyway.

From there the routine would continue as usual: he would bid farewell to Sasuke the tenant, who would owlishly glare at the older man for getting him out of bed, then head his way over to the small library that was given to him by his late father. He was at the library by seven sharp, unlocking the doors and preparing by putting back some of the books returned late at night. He would make sure everything was in order, and then—at eight promptly—Kakashi opened the library.

It would be around eight-fifteen or so that Naruto would blearily stumble in, his woven bag with his lunch draped over his shoulder, typically clutching some kind of pastry that Sasuke would sneak him in the mornings. The energetic blond wasn't quite so lively in the morning and often required the moody baker's apprentice to give him the sugar high he needed to get started. Kakashi would affectionately say hello to his semi-conscious employee, wait for the sugar to kick in, then have him help him with chores Kakashi didn't want to take care of himself, be it shelving books, dusting windowpanes, or the daily nuisance of organizing the catalog, which fell into disarray frequently.

The day would officially start around nine, when people started to mill in. Often scholars from the palace would wander in, borrowing books or finding a table to write at. Kakashi was aware of the duties of these people; everything from re-cataloging to copying manuscripts to researching, and he was more than happy to have them there, even if they were there until closing time.

Twelve-thirty would come quickly and, because it was their slowest time of day, Kakashi would take over for Naruto, who would grab his favorite window table and dig out his lunch. Sakura, Naruto's intelligent and independent friend, would arrive within a few minutes toting her own meal and would happily join the blond, sometimes swapping foodstuffs and even sharing dishes. Sasuke, looking exhausted, would appear but only for a short time, as lunchtime was the busiest time of day for him, bringing a basket of a few small rolls and usually some kind of pastry for Sakura and Naruto's enjoyment. They would always beg him to stay a little longer, and he would always shrug his dissent, giving them a small wave as he disappeared out the door to return to the bakery. Lunch would last forty minutes for Naruto but only thirty for Sakura, who was on a less lax schedule than her friend. Before she left, though, she'd find Kakashi, wish him a good day and thank him for letting her spend lunch in the library, then give him a poultice for his hands, which often became sore and raw from fishing, a medicine he applied daily. Sakura herself made the poultice, as she worked as apprentice to the village's doctor and mayor, Tsunade, the great granddaughter of the first mayor. Sakura frequented the library on the weekends, poring over medical documents and heavy books full of jargon only she and Tsunade could understand.

Closing time was at six, and at around five forty-five Naruto would begin to shoo out the people still in there. Kakashi would put back books, straighten up tables, and finish up his work until six-fifteen; then, he let Naruto leave and locked the door to head home.

If he hadn't caught anything, he would stop by the butcher's, but he always went to the baker's to pick up a fresh loaf of bread, indulging himself with a muffin every so often, and saying a quick hello to Sasuke if he had time. Most often, he didn't—the young man had a gift for perfect pastries, it seemed, and spent his time in the back, icing cakes or applying sugar to Danishes.

Kakashi would head home to his small house on the Cliffside, getting a nice fire going inside and preparing dinner by seven. Dinner was usually ready by seven-thirty or eight, depending on what he was making, and he always made sure to save a little for Sasuke, who arrived home at about nine. Kakashi would allow himself sufficient time to enjoy his meal, then would settle on the couch to read for a while, reading a chapter a night, two chapters if he reached a cliffhanger and had to keep going. He would be in bed by ten after putting out the fire and cleaning up his dishes. He was usually asleep by ten-fifteen; a little later if he was still thinking about his book or the day's events.

Hatake Kakashi was a man of routine, and he liked it that way. He was private and introverted, but fairly friendly and well liked in town. People weren't even bothered by his mask anymore, and they knew not to poke around in the quiet man's personal life. He had many friends and even more acquaintances, but only a few he could call dear to his heart. He wasn't lonely or bored; on the contrary, he liked things just the way they were and accepted that he would probably never have much more than this. It wasn't like he wanted more anyhow.

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><p>Routines get thrown out of order sometimes, whether one likes it or not, and that's just what happened to Hatake Kakashi. It wasn't when he "least expected it", per se, as he never expected anything out of the ordinary to happen in the first place, but it was definitely a surprise to him, and not altogether a pleasant one.<p>

His internal clock woke him at four sharp on February twentieth, a chilly Tuesday morning. The February gloom was usually tangible, but a deeper sniff and Kakashi's natural seafaring man's sense told him it was bad weather out.

He stretched his arms above his head, feeling his back crack in a few places. The small house was still dark as he wandered towards the kitchen. He lit the potbelly stove in the corner, putting a piece of bread with cheese in, and put the kettle on to make himself some tea. He started a small blaze in the fireplace, feeling the warmth begin to seep out and dispel the cold and gloom. He knew Sasuke would appreciate that.

Kakashi pulled back the curtain on one of the windows and peered outside. It was pouring rain, much to his disappointment, and the sea was heaving and roiling as if furious. Kakashi had lived in the seaside village since birth and knew that it was a treacherous time; he would not be fishing today. The most he could do was put on his rainclothes and wander along the shore in search of smaller fish that had washed up.

The kettle gave a quiet whistle and Kakashi peered over his shoulder at the teapot, chewing on his lip, debating whether to drink now or wait until after he came in, when he would want the warmth of tea to permeate through him. At the smell of his bread toasting, he decided to leave the tea for later and took the kettle off the burner. He grabbed a small wooden plate for his bread and pulled his breakfast from the belly of the stove. The bread was crisp on both sides, with the cheese melting nicely across the top and the inside still soft. Kakashi sat and enjoyed his breakfast while listening to the sounds of the tempestuous ocean thundering against the shore.

A particularly rattling thunderclap seemed to shake the little house to its core. Kakashi glanced at the window and decided that it was time to go out before it got any worse. He grabbed his net and his harpoon and was just about to leave when Sasuke shuffled from his bedroom, muttering, "…'S really loud out."

"Well. It _is_ storming."

Sasuke sent him a rather acidic look. "I know. I'm saying I can't sleep now."

"Feel free to brave the elements to catch fish," Kakashi offered the youth, holding up his net to show him.

Sasuke looked less than thrilled and didn't answer, just meandered over to the fireplace and plopped himself in front of it. "Hand me a pillow?"

Kakashi obliged, going over to the couch tossing the boy a cushion. "I'll be back by six," he said.

"Will you be all right here on your own?"

Sasuke snorted, snatching an afghan off the chair and curling up in a ball in front of the fire.

Kakashi smiled faintly under his mask. The boy would never admit it but Kakashi knew that since his abandonment by his brother, Sasuke disliked being on his own.

Kakashi headed out of the safety of his house and into the storm, treading carefully down the cliffside and down to the sea.

He found a few fish, freshly dead, along the shoreline where the waves were crashing. He quickly stabbed them and pulled them up into the net, which he folded over to make a bag.

He glanced out at the ocean and the bruise-colored sky. He was mildly surprised; the weather yesterday had not hinted at a storm in the least. He was usually very good at telling these things. _Maybe I'm getting old_, he thought. _But I'm not even thirty yet_…

It was during this thought that something caught his eye several hundred meters along the shore, the waves throwing themselves upon it mercilessly. Kakashi squinted past the rain.

It was a body.

Kakashi, by nature, was not one to panic easily, but he came pretty damn close.

He froze, water rushing up against his boots, and then he broke into a run, mind racing.

_What do I do if they're dead? No, the ocean can always take them back, but I think the more concerning question is what do I do if they're ALIVE? Then I could have quite a mess on my hands…_

He slowed as he neared the figure and was surprised to see that it was a female. This was not nearly as alarming as the fact that she was completely unclothed.

Kakashi turned around. He couldn't remember the last time he saw a naked girl. The thought was borderline amusing—You've lost your touch, he thought—but it was also mildly worrying. Slowly, he shrugged off his coat, unhappy at how the rain now soaked through his shirt, and turned around to face the girl again.

From the cursory glance he gave her, trying not to focus on any one body part (Kakashi was a man who liked to have his privacy respected so, in turn, reciprocated for others' sakes), he gathered that she was of medium to slightly tall height, had no noticeable, sultry curves to speak of, and was rather fair-skinned to the point where it almost seemed unhealthy. He tossed his coat over her as quickly as he could, feeling slightly embarrassed as he wrapped the coat around her limp frame.

He gently pulled a long arm from underneath the jacket and felt for a pulse on her wrist. She arms were slender and her wrist bony, he noticed, and he was able to easily wrap his hand around it. He noticed on her skin very faint pink blotches, barely noticeable but still there once you looked. They were almost like tiny spots of scar tissue.

Then he got it—a pulse. Faint, but steady. She was alive.

He slipped her scrawny arm back beneath his coat and focused on her face as he wrapped the coat around her svelte frame. Overly svelte, he noticed (he couldn't help it—the coat was wet and he was practically juggling a body in his arms).

He examined her and decided that she wasn't unpleasant to look at, but not drop-dead gorgeous by any means. Nice enough, but not someone you'd write a love poem about. Her cheekbones were high and while her jaw and chin weren't strong, they weren't weak either. Her lower lip was fuller than her upper lip and she had a rather nice cupid's bow. Her nose was nice enough, he supposed—he had come across attractive noses and noses he'd rather not look at, and hers seemed fairly normal. Pert, he supposed, because it was small, with a straight bridge. He himself happened to have a small bump on his bridge, something he was rather self-conscious about.

He put his arms behind her back and knees, lifting her. He was relieved that she wasn't too heavy—he once had to carry an intoxicated Sasuke back from the pub and it wasn't an experience he wanted to relive. She had long hair, he noticed—an unremarkable brown color, and not very thick, but with a gentle wave that he thought he liked in girls.

Speaking of, was she girl or woman? He found it slightly hard to tell. He didn't think she was as old as him, but he wasn't sure. She appeared to be no more than twenty or so years old, give or take a little.

Kakashi felt slightly overwhelmed. Once he brought her back, what would he do with her? Try and find out where she came from? Let her stay and rest for a while? Where had she come from? A ship wreck, perhaps—but did that explain why she was as naked as a newborn?

He shook his thoughts from his head and decided that he needed to get Sakura. Or Tsunade, but Tsunade tended to be busy with other things, so her apprentice was a decent second.

He finally made it back up the cliffside—a treacherous climb, if he did say so himself, and a lot harder while trying to balance an unconscious girl in his arms. He struggled back to the house, as the winds were picking up, and made it to the door with some effort. He fumbled with the door handle and, with a sigh of frustration, banged on the wooden door, praying that Sasuke would answer.

Sasuke did, opening the door. He was wrapped in a blanket, blinking owlishly. "That was faster than I expected—" he began, and then his eyes fell to the young woman limp in Kakashi's arms. His eyes narrowed and his mouth opened a little in surprise. To Kakashi's mild shame and irritation, the first question was "What the hell did you do to her?"

"I didn't _do_ anything," Kakashi replied defensively, stepping onto the placemat. "Here, take her and put her on the couch. I'll go get some towels." He handed the girl gently to his tenant, who took her curiously.

"Wait, so what happened? Where did you—WHY IS SHE NAKED."

"Did you look at her?" Kakashi growled from the bathroom as he dug towels out of a basket.

"Your damned coat fell off! WHY IS SHE NAKED?"

"That's just how I found her! Here, since you've already undressed her—"

"That's not fair, she was naked and you know it—"

"—_You_ can do the honors of getting Sakura over here," finished Kakashi. "I'll try to get her dry. Oh, go get some of your clothes while you're at it."

"_My_ clothes?"

"She's closer to your size anyway, don't you think?" Yes, the last comment was a bit of a jab at Sasuke, but at the moment the librarian could care less. He was too busy trying not to notice the body of the young woman on his couch. He tried to approach his task with a clinical mind. It helped a little.

He finished drying her off and gently slipped her into the old shirt Sasuke had given him. He frowned at the breeches. "Really?"

"You asked for my clothes. Do you think I have dresses and skirts? No. I have shirts and breeches and stockings," Sasuke said with a dirty glance in Kakashi's direction. "Sorry."

Kakashi waved it off and murmured, "No, _I'm_ sorry—I'm feeling a bit snappy and overwhelmed. It's really not your fault."

Satisfied with the apology, Sasuke donned his coat and left to go get Sakura, who—if Kakashi was correct—would be at the hospital by now.

With a sigh, Kakashi put the blanket Sasuke had left on the chair over the girl, draping it over her frail frame. He sat looking at her for a moment, wondering just what he had gotten himself into, and then decided that it would be a good time to drink that tea he'd been making.

Sakura finished her examination and called Kakashi and Sasuke back into the small living room. "I've checked her vitals and she seems to be all right, but her body's weak and seems starved for nutrients. Give her this—" she pulled from her healer's apron a few white envelopes, most likely with some kind of powder inside, "—in her food for two weeks. This should be enough to last you. In this powder are crushed nutrients and minerals that the body needs to be healthy. Until she can get it from her diet, she needs supplements. As soon as Sasuke came to the medical center saying you'd found a girl on the beach, I figured she wouldn't be in the best of health physically."

"You think?" came Sasuke's voice from the kitchen area. Sakura peered past Kakashi's shoulder and shot the boy an icy glare.

"I _mean_, it was likely that she wouldn't have proper nourishment." Sakura's voice had become very clinical, a sign that she was controlling her temper.

"Thank you, Sakura," said Kakashi, smiling faintly as he took the packets from her. Then he stopped. "Wait, put this in her food for—wait, you think she'll be with me for two weeks?"

"I don't see why not," Sakura said with a shrug.

"How would it look for a helpless girl to be living in the house with two unmarried males?"

"Ah," she murmured, letting her breath out in a hiss. "Yes, that is a tight spot." She tapped her finger against the bridge of her nose as she thought. "What if she's a family friend?"

"She's Sasuke's cousin," Kakashi suggested.

"Did someone say my name?" came the voice from the kitchen, this time sounding like the mouth was filled with food.

"That could work," agreed Sakura with a smile.

Sasuke poked his head out of the kitchen with a suspicious look. "Yes, I'm sure I heard my name. What are you two talking about in—"

He didn't finish, for at that moment the young woman on the couch sat up weakly and opened her eyes.


	2. Speaking: Not Always With the Mouth

They were all very still, waiting for each other to react. The only sounds were the crackling fire and the pouring rain, creating a general hush over the four.

Sakura made the first move and went hesitantly to the girl's side, kneeling on the floor. "Hello," she said gently, "I'm Sakura. I won't hurt you. Can you tell me your name?"

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. A thin hand went to her throat and she winced as if in pain, but not quite—it was more a grimace of sorrow.

"Does your throat hurt?" questioned Sakura, but the girl shook her head. She pointed at her throat and shook her head.

"You can't speak?" This was met with a nod.

Sakura sat back on her heels, looking unsure. "Can you write? What I mean is, could you write out what you want to say—perhaps with a quill and parchment?"

The young woman shook her head. Sakura's brows furrowed. "Then how do you communicate?"

The girl made helpless gestures, her expression almost frustrated, but mostly sad.

Sakura sighed heavily. "I hate when this kind of thing happens," she murmured. The girl looked mildly upset so the teenaged medic quickly revised her statement. "It's not that I hate you, I just…these kinds of situations are frustrating on all the parties involved, yes?"

The girl shrugged as if to say she'd never been in this situation.

Sakura ran a hand through her damp hair and sighed again, turning to Kakashi. "That," she said, pointing at the silver-haired man, "is Hatake Kakashi, and he found you on the beach. This is his home."

"The clothes are mine, though," said Sasuke, who had been curious enough to emerge from the kitchen and come into the living room, a somewhat dry look on his face, as if already bored with the whole affair.

The young woman faced Kakashi and Sasuke and tilted her head in thanks. Kakashi got a good look at her eyes—they were a soft, trustworthy green, like a well-worn favorite shirt. They were surprisingly…human. Kakashi had almost been expecting eyes out of a fairly tale he would pick up from the library, large and luminous and fawnlike.

"What can we call you?" asked Sasuke, then remembered. "Oh…oh. Don't answer that. We'll pick a name for you, how about, just something to call you until you can communicate?"

She looked hesitant, but nodded.

"Kakashi," said Sasuke as the librarian gave him a surprised look.

"Why me?"

"You found her."

"She's not a lost puppy I can just give a name to."

"Think of it as a nickname."

Kakashi fumbled for a moment, then finally suggested, "Manami."

Sakura and Sasuke looked to the girl, gauging her reaction. She just shrugged, looking mildly uncomfortable at all the attention. Kakashi didn't blame her—he hated being the center of attention.

Manami, he then noticed, looked exhausted. She settled back on the couch, looking for all the world like she just wanted to sleep.

Kakashi looked to Sakura. "Will you tell Naruto that I won't be in today? I'd better stay here and keep an eye on her."

Sakura nodded and Sasuke looked concerned. "I should be at the bakery…"

Kakashi always knew what time it was. "Yes, you're late."

Sasuke swore and rushed to his room to get his better pair of breeches and apron.

Sakura looked back to the girl on the couch, who was now drifting off to sleep. "Don't forget the powder. Try to get her to eat something within the next two hours or so. I wish we had some way to talk to her…"

Kakashi already knew a solution to that.

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><p>Manami started crying when Kakashi gave her the fish he'd cooked, god knows why. It completely baffled him. Everyone in this town had fish somewhere in their diet, but evidently she did not. You'd have thought he was trying to feed her a member of her family the way she was going on. It was a noiseless cry, but a panicked cry, like she was horrified.<p>

"What do you eat?" he murmured in confusion, finally settling on trying to give her bread. She acted like she had no idea what it was, just holding it and staring at it. Kakashi sighed and broke off a piece of the soft, spongy bread and pulled down his mask just enough to pop it in his mouth. "You _eat_ it, Manami. It's bread."

She gave him an unusual look, then slowly put some in her mouth. After chewing a bit, she decided she liked it and ate with more vigor, devouring the small slice ravenously. Kakashi added the nutrient powder to the next slice he gave her and she ate without question, too hungry to care.

After her hunger and thirst was sated, Kakashi sat in front of her on a small stool. He could see from the firelight that she had a smattering of bronze freckles across her nose and cheeks, something he didn't often see in adults.

"Look," he said to Manami, placing a book in front of her. She stared at it blankly. "You said you couldn't write so I don't assume you can read—"

But she nodded. He raised his eyebrows. Now, that didn't make sense. She could read but she couldn't write? He supposed he should count the fact that she _could_ read as something of a blessing, for it made his job much easier. "This book can teach you to talk with your hands."

Manami stared for a second, then her eyes widened a little. She looked at Kakashi with a new energy in her eyes, opening the book and examining it, flipping through pages.

"I've already learned it," Kakashi told her, "so I'll be able to understand you. Sakura will probably know it because she may have learned it for her medical studies. Some other people may too, and depending on how long you stay, some people may end up learning it just by watching you."

Manami held up six fingers.

Kakashi gave her a puzzling glance. "Six? Six what? Days? Weeks? Months? Ye—" But she had nodded at "months".

Kakashi's eyes went wide. "Really."

Manami began flipping through the book, searching. She came to a word list and scanned it, making motions with her fingers and hands.

_I'm looking for a person._

"You're looking for someone?" questioned Kakashi. "Who?"

_Mother_, she signed after a moment of searching.

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><p>Manami possessed a quick mind, Kakashi learned, as she was memorizing the hand talking with surprising speed. By the time Sasuke got back that evening, she was forming sentences on her own, but had a limited knowledge to what she'd already memorized and was still very much dependent on the book. Nonetheless, he was impressed.<p>

Sasuke saw her sign a greeting at him and misinterpreted, informing Kakashi that she was having a fit. Kakashi looked up from his book as he sat on a chair near the fireplace and informed Sasuke in turn that she wasn't having conniptions; she was saying hello to him with her hands, and if he'd like to learn how she was doing it, he'd have to ask Manami for her instruction book. The librarian saw curiosity spark in the dark haired teen's eyes. Sakura and Naruto, Kakashi knew, when presented something that fascinated them, would chase it. Sasuke would hang back and feign disinterest, but in reality he was infatuated with knowledge and learning. It was one of the things that endeared him to Kakashi—he would pretend not to be interested but he was an excellent listener, and Kakashi loved to teach.

The boy unceremoniously plunked a basket on the lap of the girl on the couch, causing her to start a little. She gave him a quizzical look.

"They're pastries," he said in his bored voice, picking up a cream-cheese filled roll sprinkled with sugar. "Y'know? They're sweet. You…eat them." He narrowed his eyes at her blatant confusion and shook his head, saying, "You've never had these? They're good. They taste good, I mean. Where are you from?"

Manami hesitated, then gestured vaguely at the window. Sasuke and Kakashi looked up simultaneously and only saw the ocean. "Uh," said Sasuke, trying to remember the scant geography he'd learned from Naruto, who'd always loved that kind of thing, "…the Water Country? The Mist Kingdom is over there, right?"

Manami looked mildly uncomfortable and shifted her legs underneath the blanket.

"We're not enemies with them, are we?" Sasuke questioned, looking over his shoulder at Kakashi, who in turn shook his head, replying "Not necessarily."

Sasuke nodded briefly, turning once again to Manami. He looked at the book she was holding, then without warning snatched it from her and began flipping through it.

Manami, indignant at having her book snatched right from her hands, gave clipped and quick signs for _What are you doing?_

"She's not too pleased that you took that from her," informed Kakashi.

"Look, eat your pastries and let me have it for a while," murmured Sasuke, already practicing small signs with one hand. Kakashi recognized "Hello" and "How are you".

Manami refocused on the pastries in front of her and hesitantly picked up the cream cheese roll. She glanced at Kakashi, as if asking permission and he shrugged. "Well, he got them for you. It's only polite to try them."

Manami took a bite and paused, letting the taste sink in, then chewed slowly, growing excitement on her face. Kakashi watched with amusement. From the way she acted, you would think she'd never tasted sugar before in her life.

_Maybe she hasn't. Maybe she's from a poor area of the Mist._ Kakashi closed his book as his internal clock told him it was time to get ready for bed. He got up slowly, stretching, and then realized he had a problem to address: sleeping arrangements.

"Manami," he said, "I don't think I have anywhere for you to sleep…um, here, I'll take the couch and you can have my bed—"

Manami shook her head and reached for her book. Sasuke made an angry huff when she snatched out from under his nose. She worked her way through it, trying to find the words she wanted, then said, _No, that isn't mine to take._

"The couch can't be very comfortable."

Flip, flip, flip. _It's okay._

Kakashi gave her a long look, then sighed. "I guess it's lucky you're small," he muttered, going over to a small chest by the fireplace and pulling out another blanket and a few pillows. "Here, these are clean."

_They smell nice,_ she signed after a few moments of thumbing through the book.

"That smell is cedar. It's what the chest is made out of. It comes off on the blankets," he informed her, helping her stand as he made a makeshift bed of his couch.

This time it took her a little longer to sign, and he had to stay focused to get all of what she wanted to say. _It's not just those soft things. It's the whole house. It smells nice. There are more smells here than where I'm from._

Kakashi vaguely thought that she never exactly said where she was from.

* * *

><p>Kakashi was faced with a dilemma.<p>

He'd been home from the library for three days now, entrusting Naruto to take care of things. He trusted Naruto, but a creeping suspicion in the back of his mind told him that to stay away from his beloved library any longer would mean that he'd go back to find it razed to the ground.

Manami had a healthier glow to her face now that gave her a far more pleasant countenance—she'd had the unhealthy pallor of an invalid only a few days before but there was a new radiance to her. She had a nice smile, Kakashi realized. Shy, to be sure, but pleasant. She was attractive enough, but no great beauty by any standards. In fact, to some she could be considered…plain. It was almost a disappointment to Kakashi, who'd read wonderful novels about a lonesome hero rescuing a beautiful woman that he'd fall madly in love with. (Kakashi supposed he had a few more years where he could be considered a "lonesome hero" and not a "lonesome pervert.") Still, she possessed a certain force of gaze and bearing every so often that he could look at with appreciation. He wondered if she had a lover back wherever she was from.

He considered trying to set her up with Sasuke.

Secretly, Hatake Kakashi loved playing matchmaker. It was more than a happy pastime for him; it was borderline obsessive (not that he'd ever let on to it, of course—he had to keep his dignity). He assumed the love for mentally creating pairings of the people he knew stemmed from his love of books, where—more often than not—a romance would ensue between a few characters. He came across many clichés—the usually-enjoyable boy-meets-girl scenario wasn't too bad, he supposed, but far too overused—but every so often, he would come across a _real_ romance. Something deep and interesting and dynamic and not always completely unusual—_that_ was what Hatake Kakashi enjoyed.

Of course, he didn't tell anyone this. He preferred to keep an air of intrigue around him; something that boosted his ego about being naturally introverted and private.

But still, the man watched the village people like a hawk to indulge in his secret hobby. He'd entertained thoughts of his teenaged friends—protégés? students? groupies? He wasn't sure what to call Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura—in all manner of pairings. He tried to imagine Sasuke and Sakura together and created the appropriate mental scenarios that he could find in a good old-fashioned romance novel.

He couldn't, to his disappointment. All he could picture was a forced arranged marriage between a moody, distant boy and a lively girl whose quick tongue could get her in trouble. As friends, Sasuke and Sakura were fairly close, but as a married couple…Kakashi shuddered. He wasn't sure if he could imagine Sasuke with anyone like that. The boy would have to be completely over the moon for him to get married, and over the moon he was not, at least not for Sakura. Despite their friendship and their care for each other, it was a dream Kakashi scratched off his list.

Naruto and Sakura were next, and though he had more luck with them—why not, they enjoyed each other's company and had friendly bickering—he realized that they were possibly too "friendly", meaning that they only saw each other as friends and would never get out of that zone. Kakashi had noticed quite a lot of affection on Naruto's end, but whether it was platonic or not, he wasn't sure. Sakura's affection for the blond loudmouth had grown exponentially—he could remember a time when she couldn't bear to look at him—but still, he wasn't sure if her feelings went beyond friendship. On Kakashi's mental list, he'd put a question mark by their names.

He couldn't get five seconds into considering Naruto and Sasuke as a couple without collapsing into fits of laughter. The problem with that pairing was that, despite how well it could work in one's mind, he just couldn't imagine it coming to culmination.

There were other villagers—some library-goers—that he added to his list after getting to know them. A certain young maid, Hinata, seemed to have a schoolgirl crush on his apprentice, which amused him to no end. He would watch the noblewoman peek out over the top of her book to see Naruto scratching his backside or making some stupid face and she would still blush and hide her fawn eyes behind her book with shyness. Ah, young love, he thought. It's so blind.

Blind indeed—sadly, Naruto was completely indifferent to the maiden, only saying hello to her occasionally. He scratched them off his list.

However, he did notice a certain servant boy's affections for the Lady Hinata that he was companion to. Kiba, he was sure his name was. The young man was a careful protector of his shy lady, and seemed to be friends with her as well. He looked upon her with affection and concern, and Kakashi noticed that Hinata—perhaps unknowingly—leaned on him for strength. It was a pairing on his mental list that he put a question mark next to—he couldn't be sure how it would turn out, but he was keeping an eye on it.

He had a few more, of course, but he didn't focus on them as much. There was the kingdom's intelligent—albeit apathetic—ambassador Shikamaru that he was certain had something going with the neighboring kingdom's resident firecracker, Temari—also an ambassador. He'd already put a check next to their names.

Hinata's older cousin, Neji, was a scholar who attended the library frequently. He was of a lower status than his cousin, but still high enough to have the luxury to pursue studies. He—ironically enough—found companionship with the blacksmith's daughter, Tenten.

It was not one Kakashi had seen coming, which is why they were his favorite on the list. He was the kind of man who liked little surprises like that. As long as they didn't throw off his routine, naturally.

Which, he hated to admit, Manami had done with her surprise crash-landing into his life. He thought she was a nice girl, but really—if he didn't return to his schedule within the next day or so, he would be found lifeless in the corner, with a grave saying "Lost Sync With His Schedule" already made.

It was time to get back to work.

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><p>Taking Manami to the library was reminiscent of dragging a reluctant toddler around, only Manami handled it without the tantrums or poutiness a child would assume. Initially, she seemed terrified of the most unusual things, like horses (<em>Really?<em> Kakashi had thought when she'd balked upon seeing Prince Orochimaru and his horses strutting through town, _A horse isn't going to eat you alive_), but it was soon covered up by frantic curiosity as she signed energetically at him to ask what things were.

"Did you spend your life locked in a closet?" Kakashi had asked with incredulity when she had marveled over a fork and attempted to comb her hair with it. "It's like you have the mentality of a three-year-old."

It was just teasing, though—she was blazing ahead with her mastery of learning the hand language, a sure sign of either keen intelligence, unwavering determination, or both. Kakashi was inclined to think it was both.

Kakashi was—to his horror—late in going to the library because Manami wanted to know what a flower was. He'd quickly shown her the sign, resisting the urge to check his timepiece, and urged her, "We can come back later to get it for you, but I have to open the library."

She'd looked at him with pleading eyes. _Please?_

"What do you want to do with it?"

_I want it. I've never seen anything like it._

Kakashi wasn't entirely sure what to make of this whole situation. _How can she not know what a flower is? They're everywhere._

He'd picked the flower for her and tucked it behind her ear, resisting the urge to just throw her over his shoulder and sprint to the library to get there on time.

He arrived at 7:03. Kakashi was three minutes late, a record time for him.

It was a record he'd never wanted to set.

Manami had sat herself at a table and had continued studying from her book, silently making signs, narrowing her eyes every so often, as if trying to visualize what the gestures were before she did them.

Kakashi luckily opened the library on time—he knew he'd possibly have a conniption if he'd opened it any later—and true to form, Naruto arrived fifteen minutes later, muffin in his mouth.

"Hello, Naruto," Kakashi said, masking the weariness and relief he felt. Weariness because he'd been away from his comforting schedule for so long; relieved because he seemed to be getting back into it.

"Hey, 'Kashi," Naruto muttered, spitting a bit of muffin crumbles out. Kakashi patiently swept them off the counter with the back of his hand. "Where've ya been?"

Kakashi nodded his head in Manami's direction. Naruto did a double take at the young woman at the table, his mouth falling open. Muffin crumbs landed on the floor. Kakashi, with a little less patience, said, "Naruto, that's disgusting."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to gape at her, but she's pretty," said Naruto, apparently misinterpreting what Kakashi meant. Kakashi didn't care if he stared at her, but he didn't want him doing it with his mouth open.

"Sasuke said you had a girl with you," Naruto said in a stage whisper. "Said she was deaf."

Kakashi, out of amusement and curiosity, decided to let Naruto continue believing that. It was just like Sasuke to feed Naruto a lie just to see what would happen. "She's getting fairly good at the hand language."

Naruto was fascinated with her in the way a small child is with a butterfly. "Wow! Can I go say hi to her?"

"I don't see why not."

Naruto went over to the table where Manami was ardently absorbing knowledge and sat down, eyes wide. He put a hand on the page she was looking at, causing her to start and jerk her head to look up at him in surprise. Her expression turned to one of expectation, as if asking _Can I help you?_

Naruto seemed a little unsure about how to approach her. "Hi," he said in a loud voice, waving. "I'm Naruto." (Here he pointed at himself and then scribbled "Naruto" on the top of her book. She seemed alarmed at his behavior. Kakashi didn't blame her.)

She looked at Kakashi with distressed eyes. _He's speaking to me as if I'm stupid._

Kakashi, as not to ruin Naruto's idea that the girl was deaf, signed back, _Well, he's the stupid one, so treat him gently and keep in mind that he's a moron. He's relatively harmless._

He wasn't sure if Manami knew all his signs but she got the general idea. She turned to Naruto cautiously and fumbled over her signs, trying to do something Naruto would get. She pointed at herself. _I'm—_

She cut off, and Kakashi realized that she didn't have a sign for "Manami". Hmmm, he'd have to think about that one.

Naruto spoke slowly and clearly, making appropriate hand gestures with each word. "It's okay," he began (making the cheesy a-ok sign with his thumb and forefinger). "I know"—he pointed to his head—"that you can't hear me." He shook his head as he pointed to his ear.

Manami's apprehensive look turned into one of confusion and she threw a suspicious glance at Kakashi. She furtively signed, _What is he talking about?_

Kakashi feigned confusion and shrugged.

She tried to sign at Naruto, _I can hear you just fine_, but the boy didn't know this language. He looked to Kakashi and said, "Well, I know she's deaf, but is she stupid too? She doesn't seem to get a word I'm saying."

There was a long, awkward pause as Manami looked at the mildly-smiling blond with wide eyes.

"Oh yeah," said Kakashi finally, "she's just mute. She's not deaf."

The smile on Naruto's face faded just a tiny bit and seemed a little more forced as he said in clipped tones, "But. Sasuke. Told. Me. She. Was. Deaf."

"Yes, well, we both know how Sasuke is such a tease."

A mental image was summoned by both Kakashi and Naruto of the scowling, sarcastic baker. Well…maybe "tease" wasn't the right word; more like "experimental, compulsive liar" was. The thought flitted briefly through Kakashi and Naruto's minds, followed by two separate thoughts in two separate minds: _I'm going to kill him_ and _I'll thank him later._


	3. The Veiled Princess

The next chapter in my fic, as is being published on TONFA (see my profile if you want the story in full so far, of which there are 7 chapters).

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><p><em>She'd always been different, as cliché as that sounded, but it was true—she was a half-breed.<em>

_Her mother, the "bride" her village had offered to keep the good fortune of the water god—her father—had been human, and she had given birth to a sea-maiden who was more girl than fish. She had no webbing between her fingers, no inky eyes spread far apart on her head, no tentacles. She had a pert nose and full lips and sharp cheekbones, quite unlike the round, convex face of her father. She was far too human to be considered normal or socially acceptable._

_And yet, her father loved her._

_Her mother, however, had not, and during her visit to the land, had undone the pact between her and the king of the sea, allowing her to stay on land. The village, however, did not suffer the god's wrath, for he had loved the human woman dearly and wished her no harm, even though she had broken their bond._

_Hurt and lonely, the water god had taken another wife—a proper mermaid—and by her gave birth to three beautiful, completely normal merchildren. His daughters by this wife were considered the most lovely in the entire sea, and his son the most handsome._

_His eldest daughter was barely acknowledged, and his her face behind a veil at the social gatherings of the palace._

_The only ones who did not treat her with contempt and superiority were her father, and surprisingly, her half-brother._

_They were the only ones who didn't sneer when she lifted her veil, and they were the only ones she would smile at. She didn't begrudge the other merpeople for scorning her ugliness—she agreed with them. Their idea of beauty came nowhere near her._

_The only thing that could be praised about her was her voice. It was admitted that she was the siren of the kingdom, perhaps the whole sea, and she worked her hardest to keep it that way. It was the only thing that redeemed her to them—an ugly bastard child had nothing else to offer, but she had this._

_It was, eventually, what she lost._

_She wanted to know why she had lost her mother, and if her mother would be proud of her now—she had grown into an intelligent young woman, and her father said that her strength of character—her honesty, her integrity, her diligence—all made her into a child he was proud of. Maybe she wasn't beautiful—but she knew that humans didn't always take that into account._

_So she had gone where not many dared to venture—the very depths of the ocean, past the ocean bottom in the cracks of the floor, where lava and noxious gases slithered their way into the water. She had gone to see the witch._

_The witch, an exiled mermaid who practiced a variety of black magic, was a great beauty, with thick black hair that swirled around a curvaceous form and features that were the epitome of mermaid beauty. Her black eyes had glittered with surprise and excitement when the veiled princess had come to see her. She was lying on her large bed of seaweed, peering at the princess upside-down._

"_What would bring the daughter of the sea king to my home?" the witch had murmured, her voice dripping with honey and sweetness, though it was a tainted kind of gentleness._

"_I want to become human to find my mother," the princess had replied, surprised to find that there was no quiver in her voice to betray the uneasiness she felt._

_The witch had raised her eyebrows in amusement. "A human? Truly? And when you find your human mother, what do you plan to do?"_

"_I…I want to ask her why she left."_

"_Isn't it obvious?" purred the witch, turning over on her seabed to gaze at the princess with even more intensity. "What mother would want a child with fins and skin the color of seawater? You were ugly to her, as you are ugly to your pureblood peers. You, princess, do not fit with anyone."_

"_I know that," the princess had said, pulling her veil back and revealing her human face. The witch did not sneer, merely smiled her toxic smirk. _

"_I would turn back now, princess," she murmured. "I'll take pity on you…it's not often I come across another outcast."_

"_I have to find her," the princess had said, her voice rising in pitch. "It is for no one but myself. I think I have the right to be selfish in this one case."_

_The witch seemed intrigued. After a moment of silence, she said, "I will require equal payment."_

"_I have no money."_

"_I don't mean money. I mean something of yours. For everything that is given, there must be given something of equal value in return. It is the way it works, princess, or balance shifts too out of proportion. Do we have a deal?"_

_The princess was hesitant. "I should like to know what I am receiving before I give anything away."_

_The witch chuckled, rising and elegantly wandering around the crack that she'd made into a home. "You're such a good girl. Now, I will change your form into that of a human woman's and give you six months to find your mother. I suppose that you are going to seek her approval, her love? If you can not achieve this by the end of the six months, you will be called back to the sea and you will turn into water. Should you win her affection and pride, you have the choice to stay human or return to your home in the sea." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I rather like you, though. I will give you another tenant. If you can not win the affections of your mother, if you win the affections of another…no, if you find your true love on the land, someone who can see past the weak and unconfident heart and the merely average appearance, you will be given the same choice—return to the sea as the mermaid princess or stay on land with your mother or your love."_

"_Would there be anyone who would love someone as ugly as myself?" questioned the princess uncertainly._

"_You'd be surprised," said the witch, floating to the young mermaid and stroking her cheek with one black nail. "By mermaid standards, you are not considered remotely beautiful. But by human standards, while you would not be a great beauty, you can catch an eye."_

_The princess hesitated, then said, "State your terms."_

"_I have heard you are the siren of the sea, princess. Is it true?"_

_The princess shrugged. "It is what the people say."_

_A slow grin spread across the face of the witch. "Your body will be paid for with your fins and mermaid appearance. However, your six months will require payment through your voice."_

_The princess's hand rose to her throat uncertainly. "I…I won't be able to talk."_

_The witch snorted. "There are other ways of speaking."_

_The princess deliberated, trying to decide what she wanted to do. Finally, she said, "I accept."_

"_Sing for me." The witch's eyes were glowing with malevolent excitement._

_The princess sang, starting with a high, clear note. She noticed, as time went on, that her throat began to constrict and that her lungs began to feel as if her voice were being sucked out. Finally, her singing cut off and she grasped at her throat. All that was left of her voice was the distant echo against the walls of the ocean floor._

_The witch smiled and said, "Thank you, princess. Now…I'd get swimming if I were you. I can't guarantee that your transformation will be timely."_

_Alarmed, the princess began to swim from the mouth of the crack that the witch resided in. The witch decided to give her time to make it to the surface._

"_I can't help but feel a little sorry for her," she murmured, not truly remorseful at all. "I wonder what will happen when she finds her mother." She turned back to her room and went back to lounge on her bed. "I'll keep an eye on her."_

In the depths of the ocean, a man with an emerald-colored fish's tail sat in his coral palace's throne room, his eyes vacant and his body limp. His large first was wrapped with surprising tenderness around a tiara adorned with pale green shells and midnight blue pearls.

Three of his children, each year apart from the other, gazed in on him from a side corridor miserably. They watched him with sad, patient eyes.

"Do you think they'll find her?" whispered the eldest, a young man with blue-tinted skin and large, black eyes. Tentacles protruded from his head and thin, pale webbing connected his fingers. His sisters were of similar appearance, only they had a more feminine appearance, and both were wearing ornate jewelry and crowns far more intricate and gaudy than the simple one their father held.

The middle, a young mermaid in her late teens, shrugged apathetically, and in a quiet voice said, "It may be too much to hope for."

"Perhaps," murmured the youngest girl, who was a lighter shade than the other two and tinted more green, "we should not hope. If we find her remains—or don't find her at all—it will crush him far more than if he had harbored false ideas of her living."

They dwelled on that thought silently, then looked in once again on their father.

He was crying, pressing the fist with the tiara against his eyes.

His children were unsure how to react. They backed farther into the hallway so as not to see their father in such a state. The second daughter murmured, "I regret saying those things about her."

Her youngest sibling wrapped her arms around her, rubbing her back comfortingly. "It is merperson nature to be wary of those who are different, and she was unusual. It wasn't fair of us, true, but in some ways, we couldn't help it."

The brother looked upon his younger sisters hugging and realized, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he disagreed. He had never condoned their harsh treatment of their half-sister, and he believed that they _could_ have helped it. Yet he said nothing. Whatever it was that comforted their consciences in this time of grief, so be it. He had no right to invade and remind them of their deeds.

In the throne room, their father crumpled and cried his eldest daughter's name.

Manami's ears perked and she looked toward the ocean curiously. For a moment she could have sworn she'd heard her name—not "Manami", her real name.

"You coming, Manami?" asked Kakashi, and Manami realized that the librarian was patiently waiting for her to continue walking. She signed hastily, _I'm coming, don't worry_, and scampered after him.

Kakashi walked a step or so ahead of her, a small bounce to his step. Manami had noticed—to her amusement—that Kakashi's mood had improved drastically as the day had gone on. She supposed it was because he had returned to that routine he held so dear to him. The lovely young woman with the pastel-colored hair and the confident smile—she couldn't recall her name at the moment, but she was the one who had spoken to her first when Manami had first woken up—had told her that Kakashi was the kind of man who ran his life like clockwork. Manami had nodded, not entirely sure what the young woman had meant by that. It had been Sasuke, who was stopping in with those glorious rolls—who clarified.

"The guy's kinda a freak about punctuality," he'd translated. "It's funny except when he wakes me up in the morning."

Manami had signed at him, _Where does he go so early in the morning?_

Sasuke had taken a moment to understand—he wasn't as fast (or as desperate) as Manami to learn sign language, but he was doing well. "Ah…where does he go…when?"

Manami had rubbed her eyes like she was sleepy and made a stretching motion with her arms.

"Oh—in the morning? He goes fishing," Sasuke had supplied.

Manami had felt slightly ill. She didn't eat fish—it was too close to cannibalism for her kind. Her diet consisted primarily of seaweed and other ocean plants. It was limited, but it was all right.

She'd taken one of the rolls Sasuke had brought—one with powdered sugar and strawberry jam in the middle—and had nearly died of ecstasy. She wasn't sure if she could ever go back to seaweed after having some of the food from the surface. Truly—bread, pastries, beef, oranges, corn, carrots, potatoes—they were all delicious, wonderful foods. She'd never truly realized how restricted her diet was, and how tasteless.

And the _flowers_. There weren't smells in the ocean, not really—she could sometimes smell the minerals and gases produced near the hadopelagic zone of the ocean, but that was about all. She got to the land and there were glorious smells _everywhere_, from the flowers—so different than the few flowering but scentless organisms of the ocean—to the foods to Kakashi's house.

Manami looked at the back of Kakashi's silver-haired head, thoughtful. She wasn't alarmed to find that she was rather attached to the quiet man; on the contrary, she was relieved and pleased. She felt like a newborn in the first week of its life—dependent and frightened and curious, and in utter need of a constant and kind presence to keep her grounded. That was Kakashi.

She was just glad that she was rather fond of his personality. He was unique to her, not quite like anyone she'd ever met in her life. Maybe he was a little like her brother—a strong but subtle presence, stable and unobtrusive, tender and thoughtful. She chuckled inwardly, though; her brother was far more like Sasuke, if Sasuke were more affectionate and less caustic. She was sure, though, that in time the boy with the shadowy hair would become more comfortable with her, as he was with his friends—her brother was the same way.

Manami realized then just how much she missed her brother.

It slowed her steps a little, that realization—and the question of whether or not he missed her too.

She was finally able to identify a smell with Kakashi's home that evening. It had begun to rain a little, something she was able to understand, but had never personally experienced. She had opened the door of Kakashi's house, leaving the warmth of the fire blazing in the fireplace and into the chilly February drizzle. She inhaled deeply, taking it in.

There was a slightly familiar smell of rain on stones and the scent of the freshwater. Her eyes opened in surprise when she recognized it as similar to Kakashi's home.

She knew one other smell she could recognize with it: the smoky smell of the fireplace always being ablaze, and now she associated rain.

What was the last smell? It was almost sweet and crisp and unlike anything she'd ever come across. Almost like the cedar smell, but stronger.

She discovered it when Sasuke came back with more firewood. He'd brought two branches of what he called "pine" and "juniper" and had stuck them in a vase in his room.

Manami asked to smell them. There was something familiar about them as they had passed her. And sure enough, there it was—crushed pine needles and juniper berries.

Kakashi's home was a blend of smells: fire, rain, juniper, and crushed pine needles. It was comforting and cozy, and for some reason it was perfect for Kakashi.

She looked over at him from her place on the couch where she was continuing to memorize hand signs. He was sitting in an armchair before the fire, legs tucked to his side, book in hand. Sasuke had positioned himself in front of the fire, but had fallen asleep against the front of Kakashi's chair, his head cushioned by the older man's knee. It was unusual to see the guarded, sarcastic young man in such a vulnerable state—his expression was no longer in a scowl, but an un-furrowed brow, unassuming expression—but it was also endearing. Manami smiled at the items in Sasuke's hands—knitting needles, a ball of yarn, and the clumsy beginnings of a blanket.

Kakashi startled her when he caught her staring. "I told him I wasn't going to buy him another blanket. He kept complaining that his room was too cold, so I told him to take up knitting. I didn't expect him to take me seriously, but that's Sasuke for you."

_You two are like brothers. It makes me happy._

"Why thank you. I try to take care of him," admitted Kakashi, putting his book down and affectionately nudging the head of his tenant, but not forcefully enough to wake him. "He may not act it, but he's a good man. He cares far too much for his own good, but he pretends to care very little. He reminds me of myself when I was this age."

_Why does he stay with you?_ Manami inquired, then hastily added, _You don't have to tell me if it's private._

"No, it's common knowledge," said Kakashi. "His parents died and his brother left. Sasuke has no family but Naruto, Sakura, and me. He agreed to live with me—I didn't want him in the streets—and pays for his room and board by making me food and doing some work for me. He's a good kid, truly, for putting up with me." Kakashi made a sheepish gesture with his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. Manami thought from his eyes that he had a hangdog smile, but couldn't be sure because of the mask obscuring the lower half of his face.

_Why do you wear that mask?_

"Because I look like my father," was his crisp answer.

…_Was he terribly ugly?_ She'd asked without thinking and felt embarrassed about her completely tactless remark. She had never blushed easily, so she knew her face wasn't red, but it felt hot.

"Don't beat around the bush, do you?" chuckled Kakashi, looking at her with an amused expression glinting in his storm cloud-colored eyes. (Manami silently wondered what bushes had to do with anything.) "No, he wasn't 'terribly ugly', Manami. He was fairly normal looking. I just look like him, but would rather not be associated with him."

_Why's that?_

Kakashi, though his mouth was hidden, seemed to smile a little unusually; she could see it in his eyes. "He did a few things that weren't looked upon very well. You give up a few things, chasing a dream. He had to give up more than he expected."

"_You give up a few things, chasing a dream."_

Manami stared at the wooden beams of Kakashi's small house. The flames of the fire had cooled, withering and disappearing slowly. Kakashi had long since carried a snoozing Sasuke to the his bed, then retired to his own room.

She, however, found herself incapable of sleep.

More than once she had questioned her judgement on making such a ridiculous bargain, becoming a human with a small chance of success or survival. Now here she was, questioning it again.

She had never really been too sure of herself, unfortunately; she had a bad tendency to second guess herself and always wondered whether or not she had made the right decision. She supposed many people were like that, but not all were. Her sisters, for instance, had a confidence she would never dream of having: all decisions they made were made with the automatic assumption that the decision they had made was the best possible course of action, and whatever came out of it was meant to happen.

Manami bemoaned her innate desire to please others, for it caused her to over-think and deliberate past a point that people found it natural. She had been accused of as wishy-washy; never able to come to a clear decision. She was truly sorry for that bad habit of hers.

_There are worse habits,_ she'd thought, trying to make herself feel better. _I could be a compulsive liar or fascinated with perfectionism._

Manami rolled onto her stomach and peered out the window a little ways from the couch, looking out at the roiling ocean with a pang of loneliness. She wondered if anyone would believe her if she told them she was actually a member of the mermaid royal family.

_...No, they wouldn't,_ she thought dryly, furrowing her brows a little. It even sounded a little ludicrous to her. _You were barely the princess anyway. An illegitimate half-breed isn't considered a princess._

The ocean tossed itself against the shore. Manami imagined that the water was reaching for her, then, when it didn't find her along the shore, withdrew sadly to report its findings. Each time, though, a new set of waves would take its place, searching for her desperately.

_I can imagine that father is upset, to say the least,_ she thought a little distantly. _Kakashi doesn't understand why the ocean's been so rough lately, or why a storm came the day he found me that he hadn't sensed beforehand. But I understand._ She smiled a little sardonically. _Kakashi wouldn't be impressed if I told him that the god of the ocean is looking for his daughter, and the ocean is so tumultuous because he has yet to find her._

She frowned, a little melancholy. _I don't think Father can keep this up for six months...or more. Kakashi has to be able to get his meal from the sea, and he can't when Father's so worked up._ She sighed and settled her chin onto her folded arms, eyes peeking over the arm of the couch so she could still see out the window.

She had seen her appearance as a human for the first time when the girl Sakura had pulled out a strange window from her bag during lunch that day and had stared at it, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Manami had curiously asked (with Sasuke haltingly translating as best as he could) what Sakura was staring into, what she was seeing. The doctor-in-training had smiled and held out the small, circular flatware to her.

In it, Manami saw another person; another female, to be exact. She hadn't known who she was, though, but she had looked familiar. She had excitedly asked Sakura with her hands if with the circle-glass, could she see and talk to others?

Sasuke, instead of translating, had stared at her for a long time, as if assessing her. "Manami," he'd said hesitantly, "haven't you ever looked in a mirror before?"

She had looked at him and nodded slowly. Mirrors were precious below the surface; usually they were stolen from wrecked ships, but it was rare to see one. Manami had seen her face in a mirror only once before she had begun to weep, for it was far uglier than any mermaid's she had ever seen. The first time she had looked in a mirror and had seen her pale green skin and darker green eyes, narrow face with no fins to speak of, and human features, she had been filled with an unspeakable bitterness and anger at her sea god father, her human mother, and herself: her parents for not disposing of her, a monstrosity that was neither human nor mermaid, and her parents for making such a mistake.

She hadn't looked in a mirror since, not without her veil that she wore to hide the ugliness everyone knew was there.

But, surrounded by three curious and hesitant teenagers, all of whom were used to seeing themselves in mirrors, Manami had nervously picked the mirror up again, afraid of what she might see.

It had taken her all her might not to betray her emotions: trepidation that she would be disappointed with the face so often called ugly by the merpeople. now transposed on a human; excitement that she may have been actually granted great beauty; and curiosity of what the mystery of her appearance would be.

She'd finally looked and was stunned and disappointed by the utter normalcy. It was more or less her face that she'd had as a mermaid, but without the pale green of her skin, which was now a fair flesh color. She noticed a slightly wide brow, a round facial structure (not chubby, like Naruto's friend's Choji's face; just round), green eyes that were wider than she remembered, and lips that were disproportionate, her lower lip being fuller than her upper lip, that were darker than Sakura's coral-pink lips but not quite red.

She knew what human beauty was, and while she was well enough, she had seen the pictures of princesses in Kakashi's fairy tale books to know that she fell short of what a princess should be.

Still, she was curious with her human appearance, noting small details that she'd once overlooked, or things that were added now that she was human: she noticed bronze freckles across her cheeks and nose; a cupid's bow on her upper lip that she found she was a little proud of; a neck that sloped into narrow shoulders, and unremarkable brown hair that trailed a little ways down her back. She noticed that a few days of being exposed to the sunlight had taken away the sickly pallor Kakashi had said she'd had, and the time she'd spent out of the water had allowed her hair to gain body and thickness.

_Nothing bad, but still nothing special, I suppose,_ she'd thought. _Your sisters would probably still call you ugly, though, and you probably still are by human standards too. But it's nice to finally look more one way than another; it was too difficult growing up as a mermaid with a human's face._

_I've never seen myself quite like this, though,_ she'd signed at Sasuke, silently chuckling. _The last time I looked at myself in a mirror was several years ago; I didn't like what I saw and haven't looked in one since._

He'd raised his eyebrows, and relayed the message back to Naruto and Sakura. The two had also given her surprised looks.

"Why on earth would you think that?" Sakura had asked. "Your eyes are pretty, like grass or leaves. Mine are too light green."

Naruto had spoken up with, "I dunno what you were seeing a coupla' years ago, but what you see now shouldn't disappoint you. You're _way_ prettier than Sakura!"

His comment earned him a nasty bash to the head by an irate healer, who had a murderous glint in her eyes. "What was that? After all we've been through together?"

The blond had looked sheepishly at his attacker. "Hey, I'm surprised Kakashi hasn't already pulled a move on her, but I've been questioning his se-"

"Don't go there. Please don't go there," Sakura had muttered, rolling her eyes. "Look, just because he's never...ah, outwardly expressed an interest in any woman in particular, doesn't mean he's-"

"Did I say he was? I just said that I was dubious." Naruto had held up his hands in surrender.

Manami thought she understood but wasn't sure. Still, considering Sakura's reaction, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

She'd signed at Naruto, _Kakashi has no family? No wife or children, I'm presuming, but what about siblings?_

Sasuke had relayed what she was saying and Naruto, with a thoughtful look, had replied, "I don't think he's ever been married, nor do I think he has any siblings. His father died several years ago, before we were born, I think, and I've never heard anything about his mother."

_What happened?_

After receiving her question, Naruto had looked uneasy. "Nobody really mentions what happened with his dad, but I can tell the town wasn't really thrilled about it."

_Did he love his father, do you know?_ She was curious; the way Kakashi had spoken of him didn't connote extreme bitterness nor much love.

Sasuke had been the one who answered. "Kakashi is too private. He doesn't indulge in revealing emotions easily. He'll recount events to you, and if you become good friends with him, I'm sure you'll learn about whatever happened from him. I don't think, though, that he likes to be pitied or sympathized with. He may be punishing himself, or he may be just unwilling to share; in the years we've spent with him, we can't be entirely sure. He's just a quiet man. It's not like we wouldn't have him any other way, though."

He's looked away from Manami to encounter his two best friends giving him doe-eyed looks. He'd jolted uneasily and quickly said, "I'mgoingbacktothebakeryBYE."

He'd disappeared quickly, red in the face and toting an empty basket that had been filled with rolls. Sakura and Naruto had looked to him affectionately and told Manami, "He pretends he doesn't care, but he's insightful and really does worry about all of us."

Manami had smiled ever so slightly, deciding that she rather liked the shy, raven-haired man with the awkward kindness. It rather reminded her of Kakashi, and she wondered whether the boy had inherited it from the man he so looked up to.

Manami had only one clue of her mother, and that was her name: Mei. No last name, just "Mei."

It probably wasn't enough to go by, but she supposed that she could enlist the help of her new acquaintances to help her in her search.

She had developed a plan to search through the library to see if Kakashi had records of the town citizens, for the witch's spell had directed her to this town and her father was the guardian of this village, in a way; it was only logical that her mother would live here. If she could find nothing in the library, she would continue to search elsewhere.

She half-heartedly regretted the loss of her voice, but there was nothing to be done about that now. She just had to make do with what she had: her hands.

She vowed to learn how to write. She had never had writing utensils nor a chance to write under the sea, but she had always had the luxury of examining the writing etched into stones of caves or walls that told stories; it was where she's learned to read. She knew writing, as well as talking with her hands, were her advantages that perhaps the sea witch had not foreseen.

She smiled softly as she looked in her book the following evening, taking Kakashi's quills, ink, and parchment, and set to teaching her hands the words she saw on the pages of the book.


	4. Lessons in Pain

Few notes on this:  
>1) If anyone's in the dark on the setting of this...uhhhmmmm...if you've seen the movie Tangled then it's easy to think of that setting. Kingdom Kakashi Lives In = Kingdom From Tangled.<br>2) Ayame = Ichiraku Ramen Stand Girl. Sorry, I need an awful character like this. I have my reasons.  
>3) Please review! It makes it way easier for me as a writer to know your opinion.<br>Okay, I think that's it.

* * *

><p>Manami spent the the Sunday of her second week on land with Sasuke in Kakashi's small but crowded kitchen, learning to cook.<p>

The raven was patient, despite his proclivity of easy irritation. The only signs he gave of frustration were neurotically tucking a piece of shadow-black hair behind his ear and a very slight narrowing of his coal-colored eyes.

Kakashi watched the two of them with contentedness, curious to see how Sasuke was when in cooperation with the mute young woman. She watched him carefully but often with impatience or confusion, her forest green eyes watching his hands as he rolled out dough on the flour-covered counter or chopped green and red apples into thin wedges. She hovered near his shoulder, something that Kakashi knew Sasuke hated. He was pleasantly surprised to notice that the normally frank young man was keeping silent on this matter, instead allowing his student to stand wherever she chose.

Kakashi settled back in his chair, listening to Sasuke talk about rolling the dough into a pie crust of perfect thickness, and returned to his book. It was a book of fairy tales, and he was enjoying a wonderful one about a beautiful and brave woman whose creativity saved her life from a bitter king by telling a story to him every night for a thousand and one nights, allowing his curiosity for what the ending would be to keep her alive.

Sasuke was too absorbed in his task to notice his caretaker watching him and their new "ward", switching between his book and his friends. "Waitaminit, Manami," he complained, nearly smacking her hand away from the soft, cream-colored dough. "That's way too thin. You're not making crepes, you're making an apple pie."

_I've never done this before,_ the girl complained, her expression irritated and frustrated. _I've never been required to do anything like this in my life._

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Cooking and baking is fun, and Kakashi loves the stuff I make. It'll earn you some points with him if you learn this."

_I'm not here to earn points with Kakashi, I'm here to find someone._ The edge was taken off her hands' movements and there was a different look in her eyes, but she was still heated with her anger at her poor baking skills.

Sasuke had never been one to ask about anything, hating to feel like he was prying. By nature, he waited until others offered information and didn't dig for it himself.

But admittedly, he was curious. _Who could she be looking for? A lover, a sibling, a friend?_ His memory did nothing for him; he couldn't recall her ever mentioning anything, at least not to him.

He snapped back to attention upon noticing that his student had begrudgingly begun to lay strips of dough-of the correct width, to his surprise and amusement-across the pie crust, apple wedges, and special sauce mixture in the appropriate criss-cross pattern. She looked distinctly annoyed, but also a little smug with herself, as she weaved them through each other.

Sasuke could barely suppress the ghost of a smile that flitted across his lips. He glanced over in Kakashi's direction and scowled, blushing profusely when he saw the man's eyes smirking at him.

"It's just okay," he said gruffly, more for Kakashi's sake, because Manami had done an okay job. The girl exhaled through her nose slowly, then demanded with terse hand signs, _What did I do wrong. Tell me._

Sasuke barely had an answer. He fumbled for a brief moment, then quickly straightened a strip of dough that was barely crooked.

Manami's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Kakashi was watching him closely.

The pressure proved to be a bit much for Sasuke. He practically shoved the pie at the girl and said in one breath, "Now-you-put-it-in-the-oven-kay-Manami-don't-burn-yourself."

He detected the barest hint of mischievous amusement coming from the silent girl as she slid the pie into the potbelly stove. "You have to keep an eye on it," he told her, recovering from the previous slight at his pride quickly. "Kakashi's stove cooks too fast, so if you're not careful, it'll burn."

She didn't look like she knew how to say "burn", nor did she seem to understand the idea of it. She furrowed her brows at him.

Sasuke felt his eyes narrow and he glanced at Kakashi, who wore the same indifferent expression that he usually wore-but Sasuke could see the slight furrow of his brow and the unspoken question: _How is she not familiar with this idea?_

"It's hot, Manami," said Sasuke, taking her sign book from the table, and flipping through it. He quickly taught her the signs for "hot" and "burn", and told her, "It's like the fires that we have. You know how we feel warm when we're near the fire? It's because it produces heat." He found the sign for heat, then taught her, pointing at the stove. "That produces heat too, and that's what cooks the food."

Manami seemed to connect the ideas when he mentioned the fireplace. She loved sitting in front of the fire, warming her toes as they poked out from beneath her dress-one of the three she owned (Kakashi had some from his mother that he'd saved, keeping in a cedar trunk).

Before Sasuke realized what she was doing, she reached out and touched the stove, probably thinking that it would have the same pleasant, mild warmth of the fireplace that she absorbed from a safe distance. He said, "Wait, no-!" but she had already touched it.

Her mouth opened in a silent cry of pain and her hand recoiled like a spring, flying to her mouth. She frantically pressing her scorched fingertips into a fist, her eyes squeezed shut. She didn't make a sound as she sat on the floor, instead just silently cradling her fist in her hand.

Kakashi appeared at Sasuke's side with a towel he'd quickly dampened with cool water. "Put in on her hand," he said.

Nervous, Sasuke said to her, "C'mere, Manami, this will make it feel better." He took her hand and tried, as gently as he could, to uncurl her long fingers, but had no success. She seemed a little panicked and winced when he touched her.

_Was this her first time ever getting a burn?_ Sasuke's hands were covered with tiny silver burn scars from the kitchens. "Manami, work with me."

Her red hand pulled from his and she asked, _What is this?_

Sasuke repeated the sign for burn with his hands. "Burn?"

"No," said Kakashi suddenly, "it's 'pain', Manami." He reached out and-taking care with her burnt hand-guided her hands on how to say it. "Pain. When you hurt in a specific place, make this sign where it hurts. Where does it hurt?"

Manami, her eyes downcast, made the sign at her hand.

"Good," said Kakashi. "That'll answer problems for us in the future. Now here, put this on your hand. It'll make it feel better." He held the towel out to her.

She nodded, slightly more pacified, and wrapped the damp cloth around her hand. It seemed to give her a bit more relief, for her brow unfurrowed and she sighed a little.

Kakashi made the sign again, to embed it in her memory. "Pain."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his hands.

Sasuke, despite his pity for her, couldn't shake how unsettled he'd been to realize that Manami had no ability to cry out in pain. She had suffered in silence, but not by her choice.

Naruto didn't follow routines like Kakashi did, but he kind of wished he had the man's impeccable sense of timing. Kakashi was never late for anything, whereas Naruto was always late, though he tried to keep it under fifteen minutes. Kakashi didn't seem to mind him arriving at 8:15 every morning for work, even though he should've been there at eight.

But Naruto had an errand to run every morning, which was exactly what he was doing now.

He rubbed his eyes blearily as he made his way to the bakery. The fog from the sea was really heavy this morning, and it made him sleepy and disoriented. He needed an extra pick-me-up, he knew, and Sasuke was always the one to provide him that. With pastries, of course-the baker had a perma-frown etched on his face, and that wasn't something that could pick anybody up.

Naruto hummed a nonsensical tune as he ambled to the glowing lights of the bakery, which was practically radiating warmth. He went to his usual pick-up place (the back door), and knocked four times.

The top half of the door opened and a moody baker leaned out. "Mornin'."

"Good mori-kins, how did we sleep last night?" mumbled Naruto as he chomped down on the apple strudel Sasuke had placed in his waiting hands. It was still warm and the dough was perfectly thin. Sasuke was a master at strudels, to Naruto's delight.

"Awful, thanks," drawled Sasuke dryly. "Yourself?"

"I dreamt all about you."

An eyebrow was raised. "...Eh."

"Just-kid-ding," sang Naruto sleepily, though less sleepily than before. "You're not pretty enough to dream about, what with that stupid-looking expression you always wear on your face. You walk toward me looking like that and I always think you're going to beat me like I owe you money."

The response was a rolling pin whacked against the blond's head with such ferocity that it made him see stars and the top half of the door closing in his face.

Naruto chuckled maliciously, taking another bite of the strudel and letting the apple-cinnamon taste fill up his mouth. "Yum."

He arrived at the library a few minutes later, pleased to see Manami near the window, studying by candlelight. It was getting lighter in the mornings as the March equinox drew nearer, but not light enough that the sun was completely up by eight.

He entered the library and chirped, "Hi, Manami," to which she looked up at smiled at him, tucking her hair behind her ear. He set his bag down with her and asked, "Where's the librarian?"

Manami began to sign something, but then remembered that he couldn't understand. She took the paper and quill she had with her and in shaky, unpracticed script, wrote, _He had to talk to Sakura's teacher._

"You're teaching yourself how to write?"

She nodded.

"Um..." He stared down at the messy, inexperienced writing, and tried to think of a compliment. "Keep working hard. It's difficult when you're first learning, but I suppose it's good that you know how to read. You just have to practice how to make the letters. For a first-timer, you're doing really well, I mean it."

She smiled at him again, and he realized that when she looked proud of herself and happy with what she was doing, she was rather pretty. Not a conventional "pretty", but a pleasant, happy kind of pretty that made him want to smile too.

It made him wonder. _How in God's name has Kakashi not taken one look at that smile and decided to pay her a little more attention?_

He shook his head, wondering if Kakashi was going to live a bachelor's life forever. Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke had long given up trying to find a girl for him; though he thought it was a secret, it was clear that Kakashi had more fun being matchmaker than he had being matched. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura had come to the most logical conclusion to Kakashi's dissatisfaction in relationships: the women around Kakashi never measured up to the perfect and amazing women he read about in his books, especially his fairy tales (his favorite to get lost in).

It kind of bugged Naruto to think that there were so many amazing people who would never be with someone because they didn't meet that person's high standards. But then again, he figured, those high-standards people probably didn't deserve someone amazing.

Well, he thought Kakashi deserved someone amazing, even if he did have high standards, which made his last statement rather hypocritical.

(Manami looked over at Naruto in confusion and concern as she watched him slam his forehead against a bookshelf and say, "Hypocritical or not, I'm still right! ARGH DAMMIT I CAN'T SAY THAT AND NOT SOUND LIKE AN ASS.")

There were plenty of wonderful women in this village who were looking for husbands. It was a fairly large village, being the capital of the kingdom, and had an even mix between the quaint of the seaside, like where Kakashi lived, and more bustle of the city, like where the library and the bakery were. That made for a lot of personality types and appearance types; why couldn't Kakashi look past his books for once?

Which led him to another infuriating point. Manami and Kakashi: probably not too far apart in age, pleasant temperances, interesting personalities, and for some reason they were completely uninterested in each other. Oh, it was the worst. It absolutely eluded Naruto-and his friends, for that matter-how a young single man who lived with a young single woman who was rather pretty (really, she could try to say that she was plain, but Naruto knew better-she was a fairly nice-looking girl) and was also entertaining and clever, wasn't interested in pursuing her in the slightest. And, to his surprise, Manami didn't seem very interested either. She seemed a little lost sometimes, or perhaps more focused on other things. None of those things included Kakashi, or any other men for that matter.

Naruto knew he shouldn't have expectations like that-_I guess things don't exactly work like that,_ he begrudgingly acknowledged as he shelved some of the medical textbooks he knew Sakura would just scatter around the library later-but he supposed he wanted to hope. Kakashi was getting farther up in age-how old was he now, twenty-seven? twenty-eight?-and damn it all, Naruto was going to see him happy.

_Maybe he's happier being single,_ said the voice of reason that sat in his head. It sounded (to his annoyance) like Sakura.

Kakashi himself arrived at that moment, entering through the door with a small package in his hands. "Manami," he said, sliding the package across the table to where she sat, "this is for you form Sakura. Take one of these with your food each day for the next three weeks; it'll keep your energy up. You're just about on the way to recuperating in full," he added with a smile in his eyes.

_Maybe it's the mask,_ murmured the more-curious, less-rational voice in his head, the one always spouting ideas. (This one sounded like himself.) _Maybe because Manami doesn't know what he looks like, she isn't attracted to him._

_Personality should count for something,_ Sakura's Reason Voice told him. _It may not be as simple as outward appearances. And for that matter, perhaps she feels something for him but doesn't want to ruin the friendship they've started for something like a potentially unsuccessful romance._

"Phew," said Naruto aloud, "thank goodness I have you in my head, Sakura, or I'd never think of anything smart."

Kakashi and Manami both turned and looked at Naruto, giving him a long, mildly curious look as the blond flushed red.

"Of course, Naruto," was all Kakashi said, exchanging a look with Manami. She signed something, her hands moving as fast as a hummingbird's wings, which caused the librarian to quietly chuckle and nod. They both smiled, amused at something they understood but Naruto did not.

A certain young maiden stepped off of her father's merchant ship and as soon as she touched land, she was headed down the cobblestone streets straight for the library.

How she couldn't wait to see her beloved Kakashi again. The month away while she was being trained to take over her father's restaurant as a high-society young woman was torture; all manners and business skills and no masked librarian. She'd almost forgotten what he'd looked like.

"Lady Ayame, you're back!" cried a voice, and she turned with distaste upon seeing that it was one of her father's workers, Nishi, weaving through the evening crowd from the cobbler's, a box in his hand. She hoped he finally had gotten those ratty shoes fixed, or even better, replaced.

"Yes, hello, how are you," she said mildly, remembering the manners that had been pounded into her, doing her best to seem politely interested.

"I'm splendid, Miss Ayame. It's a lovely evening," Nishi said. "Have you seen the sunset? It's glorious."

"Yes, yes, of course," she said, turning her head briefly toward the sun setting over the sea, not actually seeing it. Kakashi was far more brilliant than any sunset.

Nishi seemed to sense her urge to leave and-with carefully disguised disappointment-said, "I'd best be on my way, Miss Ayame."

"Thank God. Ah, I mean, have a nice evening, Nishi." Ayame hadn't even finished saying his name before she was quickly stalking away.

She walked with a singleminded intensity towards the library, hoping to get there before it closed, but the clock struck six and she knew she was too late.

Her evening ruined, Ayame decided to get a pastry to try and cheer her up. The Uchiha child was a capable baker, and his eclairs were her favorite.

It was outside the bakery that she saw him.

Or more precisely, _them._

Her eyes landed first on Kakashi, who was bathed in the pink and orange shades of the sunset that was coming from behind her. Her breath caught as she stared at her masked Adonis, a perfect as a painting as he walked toward her.

But instead of rushing into her arms like she fantasized that he would, he instead appeared not to notice her and actually turned his back to her, calling mildly, "Manami, come on, I'm hungry and it's time for dinner. I have your favorite tonight, so let's go home."

Ayame's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in horror as she heard footsteps, then from the shadows of the bakery and into the light of the sunset came a young woman who ran to and eventually fell into step with Kakashi.

She was taller than Ayame and far leaner-where Ayame was buxom and curvy, this woman was angular and decidedly flat. The top of her head reached Kakashi's jaw or thereabouts, and she had thick hair that went just past her shoulders. She moved her hands animatedly but said nothing, something that seemed rather freakish to Manami.

The two moved past her, not even noticing her frozen in the street staring at them, heading back in the direction of Kakashi's seaside home.

_What was her Kakashi doing going home with this skinny chit?_

Ayame gritted her teeth and tapped her finger against her dress irritably. She would investigate in the morning.

No one was touching her Kakashi.


End file.
